


The love of little that made a little love.

by oathkceper



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Baby braime, F/M, Fluff & Angst, For the most part anyways, Mentions of Abortion, Sansa is the best friend, Sexual Tension, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, You’re clowning if you think this is going to be a happy fic, fluff & smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oathkceper/pseuds/oathkceper
Summary: A One night stand,Two purples lines,and a new family of Three.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 56
Kudos: 206





	1. Ch. I

Brienne could not stop her hands from shaking as they lay clasped so tightly together that her knuckles had lost all pigment from the intense pressure. With what little coherent thought she had inside of her head, she reminded herself to breathe, which seemed so difficult that she was sure she could add asthma onto her recent medical problems list, along with morning sickness, sensitive breasts and constant exhaustion. 

She was sat on the closed lid of a toilet seat, her legs awkwardly clutched to her chest so that anyone who felt the need to look underneath the locked stall door to see what the hell was taking so long would simply assume nobody was inside. Though, from the heavy breathing and insistent mutterings through her clenched teeth, Brienne did not have the willpower to think of how indiscreet she was being. 

The sudden ringing of her phone pierced through the tense air like a hot knife. Brienne’s head whipped up from where her forehead was resting on her knees. 

It had been three minutes. 

Three of the longest fucking minutes of her life, but three minutes nonetheless. 

Her teeth sunk into her trembling bottom lip. Her chest heaved with the effort to let air in and out of her lungs as she lowered her legs slowly to touch the ground in front of the white stick that she had yet to look at. Brienne could not force herself to look down and face her future; her eyes were glued to the stall door. 

It was not classy, nor was it necessarily proper to take a pregnancy test in the bathroom of her office workplace, in the middle of working hours. It could not even be considered practical when she was already too large to fit her large and lanky body onto the seat of a closed toilet. But she could not wait until she got home when she knew the damn thing was in her bag, laughing at her and taunting her every time she reached inside to grab a mint but accidentally trailed her fingers across the box. Even that had made her break into a nervous sweat. 

Now that it was out of the box and read results on it was infinitely worse. So much so that Brienne was very tempted to walk out of the bathroom without so much as glancing. But she had already committed, and she did not undo her buttons and untuck her new and perfectly crisp shirt in fear of creating patches of sweat with lack of cool air for nothing. 

As if diving under water - _or into the fiery pits of hell, as it were_ \- she took a deep gulp of air and leans forward on her seat, her deep, stormy eyes of rolling waves landing immediately on the screen of the test. 

Brienne’s heart rose so high up into her throat that she was sure it would be the next thing to come out of her mouth, after a sharp gasp and a breathy curse. 

Two purples lines. 

“Wench!”

Her head snapped up. 

_Fuck_. 

“Are you being sick again?” 

_Oh, fuck-_

“Do you need me to come in?” 

She was going to throw up. No, she was going to choke and die.

Brienne spluttered for a moment, her shaking hands picking up the test and shoving it into her pocket.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” She called out, willing for her voice not to tremble as badly as her legs when she stood up. “Go back to your office!”

“Are you sure?” Jaime persisted. Even from outside the bathroom she could sense his reluctance to leave her be. She had fled all of a sudden after all. 

“Yes, I’m just cleaning up!” There was little that could soothe the stubbornness of a Lannister - especially when that Lannister was Jaime, and even though she felt as though panic was the only emotion she would ever be capable of from hence forth, it would do her no good to set Jaime off too. 

“Alright,” He sighed. “Don’t be too long, we’ve got a deadline to meet!” 

“I won’t be!” 

Brienne listened until his distant footsteps disappeared down the hall, and then she completely collapsed against the stall door, her breaths as laboured as she would soon be in nine months. 

“I’m pregnant.” She whispered to herself, her right hand slowly reaching to lay on her flat stomach, her eyes following the every little movement. 

“Im pregnant.” Brienne repeated, to the only other in the room with her, her thumbs tendering stroking the bare flesh that was revealed beneath her unbuttoned shirt where her future grew in her womb. 

Despite her fear, her impending doom and her racing pulse, Brienne smiled.

She was going to have a baby. A baby with a man who had slept with her four weeks prior on a drunken one night stand. The very same man who had been stood outside that bathroom door only minutes ago without any idea of what the hell they had both gotten themselves into. 

It was then that she started to cry.


	2. Ch. II

Brienne tried not remember the last time that she had cried. The feeling of tears slipping down her cheeks was a foreign one; somehow different to the sensations of raindrops sliding across her pale skin. She did not cry often, she was too stubborn to allow herself to give into sadness that overpowered her senses, but there was very little she could do to prevent the onslaught of emotion from crashing over her and leaking from the oceans in her eyes.

The moment she had opened her eyes the morning after she had slept with Jaime Lannister, only to find an empty bed and a blurry memory forged out of blissful drunkenness had been hard enough. Having to see him every day in work as they ploughed through case files to meet their upcoming deadlines was even worse.

There was nothing that could have prepared her for that look of complete regret when they saw each other in work the first time after. 

It was such a soft look, yet it’s sharpened edges sliced through her then, and still did.

Brienne stared at herself in the mirror of the bathroom, the murky sheen that covered the glass making her eyes seem even more cloudy than they were, but even through the layer of grime she could still see Jaime’s regretful gaze within the pits of her own eyes. 

_Pregnant_. 

In her pocket was the proof that she had been dreading the moment she had lifted her head from throwing up for the first time only minutes after waking. Over the month, her breasts had become too sensitive to wear anything but sports bras under her shirts, and her bladder felt the size of an eggcup. The morning sickness was the first wake up call - literally, in more than one case - that she needed in order to realise just what the hell was wrong with her. 

Sleeping with Jaime Lannister had been nothing but a mistake, nothing but a faint memory of sexual gratification on one drunken night where her body had screamed and writhed with the pleasure he had brought her. For a moment, she had been happy that a new life was held within her body that she had once thought to be a burden, but it was then that Jaime’s pitiful eyes flashes before her own, and she realised that any happiness she had was now a void. 

“Fuck,” Brienne whispered, bracing her hands on the edges of the porcelain sink, her arms straining with the effort to hold her body up with the tremble of her strong legged. Her cheeks were an ugly shade of red, her freckles standing out on the blotchy skin until they seemed more like an insistent rash. “Fuck!” 

It was a raw cry, one that tore through her throat and echoed throughout the bathroom. Brienne heaved in a breath, her calmness as soothing as an ocean on a stormy night, and let it out again shakily, willing herself not to let anymore tears slide down her face. 

Though she had reviewed her dilemma repeatedly in her head, she could not seem to make any sense of it. Pregnant. At twenty-six, with a baby, who’s father was Jaime Lannister - a one night stand. It seemed like a thirty-three year old problem, at the very least, not a ‘fresh out out of university problem’. She could not be a mother, she was barely a woman with her height that exceeded most men by a full foot and curve free body that no man anywhere had ever wanted to fuck and put a baby in. Not that Jaime had either. 

— _one month ago_ —

_His hot breath licked at the sweat-soaked skin of her throat where his lips and tongue had trailed fire down the long column of her neck, leaving red scratches where his beard had scraped deliciously and bite marks where his teeth had sunk in._

_The smell of alcohol lingered in air around them both, but it only added to the raw heat of their desires which were burning in flames large enough to consume both of them until they were in both the seven hells and heavens. Their breathless pants and distant moans only added fuel to the burning parts of themselves, all thoughts of wrong turned right, and nothing was coherent enough in either of them to force them to stop._

_It was too good. The writhing of their naked bodies with each other felt too much and not enough at the same time, to drag themselves away when they had barely begun would end in more disappointment than whatever consequence came afterwards. They both needed this._

_“Condom!” A voice gasped, followed by the sounds of lips joining in a fierce embrace that rendered each of them silent for what could have been hours, but in fact was only seconds. “Get a condom.”_

_The rustling of bed covers and the pitiful moan that emitted after the loss of body heat soon filled the room, and she could not help but close her eyes and suffocate herself with the intense, hot air that encased them in their own personal heaven._

— _present_ —

Brienne’s feet began moving under her before she could really notice, paving back and forth along the bathroom tiles until she was sure she could dent the flooring with the force of her every step. Panic seized her, locking all other senses out and paralysing her mind so that she was no longer in control of the thoughts that passed through, or her actions either. 

Had they not used protection? Had they, and her unbelievably bad luck had fucked her over? She could hardly remember for the life of her what had happened before Jaime was inside of her and the only coherent words she spoke were that of his name, but she tried. With her eyes squeezing shut, she attempted to think back to over a month where her drunken mind had blurred what events had taken place, and when. 

— 

_“I don’t have any condoms, but - fuck - I want this, Brienne.”_

_“I’ll take the morning after pill, just don’t let this stop, Jaime, please!”_

_“You’ll remember to take it? We’re quite drunk-“_

_“I’ll set a reminder on my phone, now just stop talking, you’re putting me off.”_

_—_

Brienne paused, her hands raising up to her face and covering it with her palms. She took in three deep breaths, none of which did anything to soothe her racing heartbeat which now echoed in her head too. 

_The pill. The fucking pill._

“ _Fuck_. Fuck!” She whispered to herself in a broken tone that made her voice crack. Lifting her head from her hands, she looked into the mirror once again, her bloodshot eyes trailing from her red and splotchy face down to her stomach, which was still on display with her unbuttoned shirt. It was in her belly that her baby resided, and although she had smiled at the thought of life growing within her burdened body, now all it caused was more tears to leak from the sapphire waters of her irises. 

A flurry of thoughts crossed her mind all at once, each one more absurd than the last. 

_Could the test be wrong? Do I abort? Do I give it away?_

The last question, however, was the hardest one to ask, and the hardest one to answer. 

_Do I tell Jaime?_

When they had first met, there was little of anything between them except for disrespect. Jaime Lannister had been - and perhaps still was - the most insufferable man that Brienne had ever met. With golden hair that was almost as obnoxious as that smirk that had been permanently painted onto his lips, the arrogance he exuded had at first been comical. But then he had opened his mouth and called her a man, and any humour she had once towards him changed into a deep loathing. 

For years they had been forced to work together on projects that could have been - and would most preferably have been - completed separately. There was little Brienne could do to stop him from taunting her and teasing her along the way. Although her temper flared in his company and her hand twitched in effort not to make him smile that smug, piss-pleased smirk on the other side of his face, she could only manage grunts and growls in response to him; to which he called her a grovelling bear. 

Jaime lost his hand during the year that she first met him after joining the Red Keep law firm. It had been an unfortunate occurrence; a revenge plot commited by man named Locke after his comrade, Roose Bolton, had been put behind bars for multiple accounts of domestic abuse, and murder. Jaime had been jumped one Friday night whilst walking home from work, and after a tough struggle, Locke had not only taken his pride, but the ability to use his hand again. So, in turn, Jaime had taken his life to settle the debt. 

Brienne had found out the Monday after when she had turned up for work and for once was not greeted by a sharp-witted insult on her choice of attire. News spread as fast as the flow of water around the office, and the moment she had heard, she had fled from her desk and down to the hospital. 

She had been, after all, the one to take Roose Bolton down, not Jaime. Yet, he had still taken the fall. 

“They said you were next.” Jaime had murmured as he lay in the bed with Brienne sat by his right side, her eyes glued to the space where his hand should be. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I couldn’t let him get away.”

With the blossoming of respect, and an unspoken oath that needed to be fulfilled, Brienne had immediately taken on his case that came with Locke’s murder. She worked day and night to make sure that Jaime was not convicted for a crime that he committed in self-defence. And hers. There was little time spent sleeping, more time spent interviewing potential witnesses, speaking with officers and officials, and writing up the case that saved him from being put behind the same metal bars as Roose Bolton, who had started all of this originally.

After almost a year of both recovery and court dates, Jaime returned to work as a free man, thanks to Brienne who had been his personal lawyer. Still, he continued to tease her, but even with his mutters and grumbles, Brienne could hold nothing against him. Not when he had sacrificed so much just so that she would not have to suffer the same fate as he did. 

So, naturally, she had to sleep with him and lay waste to the development in their professional relationship, and friendship. And now - thanks to whatever curse the Gods had bestowed upon her simply for _breathing_ in his direction - he was the father of her child. 

Fan- _fucking_ -tastic. 

The walk from the bathroom back to her office was perhaps the most difficult set of steps that she had taken since her very first. Her eyes did not stray from her forward focus in fear of making contact with someone she knew and having them see right through what thoughts were swirling around her mind. Brienne was aware that her face had taken more of an ugly red shade than usual, and her lips were swollen with the ferocity of which her teeth had been biting down on them to force any wrecked sounds from emitting from her, and it made each second she spent in the office’s peripheral version much too long. Her shirt was not as neat as it was before she had entered the bathroom - which had been forty minutes ago at this point - and neither was her mind, and if people suspected something was wrong as she walked passed looking smaller than she ever had, well, they did not say anything. That was the first thing she was grateful for today.

Each time her leg moved took much more dedication than the last as her office door came into view and Jaime’s silhouette behind the cloudy screen grew closer and closer. She had not thought out what she was going to say, nor if she was going to say anything at all, but all she kept thinking of was the regret that contorted his features the first time he had seen her after they had fallen into bed. This was going to be infinitely worse. 

Brienne’s hand shook as she placed it on the cool metal of the door handle, her trembling fingers momentarily fighting to disallow her from walking through. Her chest heaved and her heart continued to sink as deep as her womb with every passing second. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t face him. How on earth was she going to- 

“What the _hell_ took you so long?” Brienne’s head snapped up to meet Jaime’s fierce gaze which was locked onto her face, which must have been more shocking than usual due to the recoil that followed immediately afterwards. “And why do you look like that? I don’t think i’ve seen anything so blotchy since I was sun bathing naked and my arse burnt.”

Brienne’s nerves dissipated temporarily, replaced by irritation that must have bled into her features, for that infamous smug grin spread across his lips once again as she shoved her way past him into their shared office for their current case. “It’s none of your business.” She scowled. 

“It is when I now have to stay after hours with you to get this file organised, which - I might add - would already be done if you didn’t insist on hiding away in the bathroom for close to an hour.” The frustration had seeped into his voice once again, and he had seemingly taken it from her own soul, for hers had now succumbed to that nervousness once again. 

Things had not necessarily been the same ever since that night a month ago. Of course, the awkwardness had near enough driven them both to quitting during the first week of hardly looking in one another’s direction, never mind trying to initiate conversation. Like always, people in the office just assumed that they had a fight - which was usually the case - and for that she was grateful. Nothing seemed off to everyone else, and she could cope with that. What she had struggles to cope with, however, over the four weeks since was Jaime’s lingering stares that drove her nerves to paralysation. He taunted her still, teased her until her skin was as red as her burning rage, but there was nothing harsh anymore. Nothing that was meant to hurt, only to irritate, which was infinitely worse. 

Brienne stood, clasping her fingers in front of her, almost afraid to lower her eyes from his, especially when the door shut with a loud crack that made her wince. She could feel that scrutinising gaze of his trailing over her body, and all at once she became much too aware of the pregnancy test that she had shoved into her back pocket. 

_Shit_. 

She felt her eyes widen, and in attempt to hide what secrets were held on that damned stick, she backed up a few steps until she was leant against the desk, her arms straightening to her sides to further hide it. 

“What is wrong with you?” Jaime asked, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a few, almost tentative, steps forward. His features were contorted with confusion, his smirk straightening into a curious thin line whilst he waited for a response that did not come. “For Gods sakes, speak, woman-!” 

She couldn’t do this here, she felt as if she was going to sink into a black hole, and with Jaime’s anger already on the rise, she could not break the news to him now. She had already sunken as low as to take a pregnancy test in the bathroom. She couldn’t do it.

“I need you to come over tonight.” 

_That didn’t sound desperate at all._

Jaime raised an eyebrow, and Brienne flushed from her cheeks and all the way down the long column of her neck. “Not for that reason!” She protested. “I just... It would be better to get everything done outside the office. That way you don’t have to stay here over hours.” 

“You _need_ me to come over?” He asked with a drawl after an awkward cough. Obviously he didn’t want to remember that night as much as she didn’t, and she couldn’t blame him. Not after the consequence that he had still to learn of. 

“Yes.” She confirmed through gritted teeth. “I need you to come over.” 

“Not want?” 

“Not necessarily, no. I don’t _want_ you at my house, I didn’t want you to misinterpret my words and assume that you were welcome.” Brienne held up a finger to pause him from opening his mouth, not that it had worked before. “Will you come?” 

There was a small pause, and much like the last four weeks, those few silent seconds took a few years to pass too. 

“I will come over, yes.” Jaime confirmed with a firm nod of his head, averting his eyes to the table in front of him where all of their work was spread out, his arms falling back to his sides so that he could begin packing everything away. “I’ll see you later on then, Tarth. You get a head start, you look like you need it.” 

It was not a dismissal, but Brienne took it as one. Pulling on her coat and slinging her bag over her shoulder, all whilst suffocating in the deafening silence between them, she could not remember a time that she was more grateful to be leaving a room. With a nod in his direction, Brienne took her leave and closed the door behind her to leave him in pace. 

_Gods.She couldn’t do this._

Her steady legs rushed her to her car, and as soon as she was behind the wheel and she was locked inside, she lay her head down on the steering wheel and allowed herself a few moments to collect herself and put herself back together. Her nerves buzzed beneath her rapidly paling skin, her eyes closing against the burning of fresh tears that threatened to spill once again. 

“I can‘t tell him.” She murmured quietly to herself, her hands instinctively reaching for her back pocket to bring out the pregnancy test that had determined her future with two simple lines. “I don’t want a baby, I’m not ready for a baby. I can’t raise this baby alone, I can’t expect Jaime to be a father either-“ Her voice broke into a wretched sob that cut through her throat. 

What was she thinking inviting him over? In that brief moment she had fooled herself into thinking that’s she could tell him of her pregnancy in her own home, thinking it would be easier, but it won’t be. Nothing about this situation could be better. 

Except, perhaps, getting rid of the baby. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the first chapter gave you all hope that this was going to be a happyhappy fic, but I regret to inform you that you are sorrily mistaken.   
> At least for the most part. There will still be fluffy moments between Jaime and Brienne of course, I would never deny you (or myself) Braime goodness.
> 
> I will go into details in later chapters, but for now please comment and share your thoughts, or what you think is going to happen! I appreciate anything and everything you have to say!


	3. Ch. III

Brienne’s home did not feel the way that it once had. Not since the night that Jaime had spent in her bed. 

Her home was a small one, hidden on the outskirts of the main city where the sounds of bustling traffic could not haunt her during the night and instead where the breeze from the ocean drifted through her windows and sung her lullabies if crashing waves until she fell into sleep. There was nothing special about her house, nothing grand or expensive - everything in it was old and worn, but that is what made it home. She found comfort in familiarity, and she did not welcome change as freely as most others would when she had become so acquainted with her quiet little house where nothing could taunt or tease her. 

That was until Jaime had tainted it. 

There was little Brienne could do to prevent the onslaught of memories that hit her the moment she walked through her door, almost enough to make her recoil and take a step back. After that night one month ago, all that flooded her was the painful remembrance of regret and the distant loneliness that had created a void in her stomach, but today was different. Today was unfamiliar. 

Setting her keys down on the table besides the door, Brienne let out a deep sigh, standing in place for what seemed like an hour whilst she simply thought of what horrors her day had brought her, and what they continued to. Her eyes of sapphire blue that were surrounded by an ocean of bloodshot red rose from where they stared intently at her wooden floor, timid to look around her and recall memories of Jaime Lannister strutting around her home and invading her life. 

Brienne could picture him stood on her stairs, grinning at her in that same way he had before he had taken her upstairs and to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them both. She could smell the faint aroma of alcohol as it drifted through the air with the purpose of enlightening her to more of the recollections she had not allowed herself to think so intensely about previously. Now, though, it seemed that her body was forcing her to try and connect the dots, to put the pieces of the puzzle together to find out how she had ended up in this situation. 

She already knew, of course, but her mind simply could not comprehend the occurrences. She had gotten drunk with Jaime Lannister, who later fucked her and put a baby in her womb. The story began and ended in the same sentence, yet it only served to send her mind whirling into a catastrophic sense of panic. 

With her coat, shoes and bag left at the door, Brienne padded through the corridor and into the kitchen, moving towards the fridge so that she could pour herself some cold water to soothe what nausea had washed over her since she entered her home. Her fingers still shook as she poured the water into her cup, even more still when she raised it to her lips and took as big of gulp as she could. The silence around her was almost too much to handle, but any noise would only serve to disrupt her peace and send her spiralling again. 

Jaime was to be over soon, she suddenly remembered, and that nausea found a way to creep back up her throat once again.

“Shit,” She whined, tilting her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, clutching the cup in her hand with such a mighty grip that any God would have considered it a miracle that it did not break. What the hell had she been thinking when she invited him over? 

With the effort of a thousand men, Brienne shoved herself off the wall and began to bustle around the kitchen, searching for some sort of wine to keep Jaime entertained whilst hopefully not something too fancy as to infer another round of drunken sex. Settling on a cheap alcohol that Sansa had left a few months ago, Brienne poured two glasses and set them down on the kitchen countertop in anticipation for Jaime’s inevitable arrival. 

There was little she could do mentally to prepare herself for whatever confrontation was to come out of this evening, but all she knew was that she could not tell him. She would not, it was too embarrassing to admit to; too shameful. 

There was no time to change - Jaime would not be too far behind her after all. Instead, Brienne climbed up the stairs and to her bathroom on the first floor and leant her entire body weight on her arms when she placed her hands on the sides of the sink, fearing that her legs would collapse beneath her. It took a considerable amount of willpower to meet her own gaze in the mirror, especially when she knew she looked less of a woman than usual with her blotchy skin and freckles that seemed more like an insistent rash. To think that any child would have the misfortune of such features was almost enough to make her want to travel to the nearest clinic and sign herself up for whatever procedure she could to get rid of it. It was a fate no child deserved, but apparently she had. 

With hands too tough to hold a a child to her flat chest, Brienne straightened and tucked in her shirt to her pants to make herself look at least a little more presentable. There was nothing she could do to get rid of the tear tracks on her face without scrubbing enough to add a more prominent shade of red to her cheeks, and so she simply fanned herself until she felt her skin cool and redness seep away, though her red eyes were sign enough that she had broken out into yet another round of tears since leaving the office. 

Her fingers twitched by her side after they had dropped in defeat, aching to hold that pregnancy test within her firm grasp once again. Although she had tried over and over to convince herself that the results were that of blurry vision and overall nerves, she knew her efforts to end her shock were fertile. Where her eyes lay settled on her stomach through her reflection in the mirror, she whipped her head around at the sound of three knocks on her door downstairs. 

_Make a decision. Make it now._

Her feet moved beneath her without her accord, her clammy hands clenching and unclenching. 

_Tell him or don’t, but make the decision before that door opens._

The white shirt that covered her body and the black pants clad around the long length of her legs seemed too tight suddenly, as if the world was closing in on her and attempting to suffocate her before she came face to face with Jaime. At this point, it would be a blessing, especially as she placed her hand on the door handle and pulled open the door that separated them. 

Brienne made her final decision the very moment their eyes locked. 

_Not today._

“About time,” Jaime huffed in typical Lannister fashion, shuffling through the threshold, his shoulder bag restricting him from walking forward normally with the weight carried inside of it from all the papers they had yet to sort into organised files. “It’s freezing out there.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, stepping aside to allow him a better entrance and shutting the door behind him. “Hello to you too.” She murmured, crossing her arms over her chest and watching with a frown as Jaime walked through her house and towards the kitchen as if he had been here many times before. In fact, the only time he had ever entered was that one night over a month ago. 

Hells, she could barley remember the conversation they had before they were peeling each other’s clothes off and throwing them around the room like they were little more than untamed animals, yet Jaime seemed to have mapped out her house. 

Jaime picked up one of the glasses that she had prepared on the kitchen counter, letting the bag fall to the floor with a thud, followed by a groan of relief. The roll of his shoulders underneath his jacket mesmerised Brienne for a moment, if only because she could feel the sensations of his rippling muscles in the nerves of her hands from when they had been wrapped around his back as she clutched and writhed beneath him- 

_No, nothing good came from that Godforsaken night. Do not act like the loss of your virginity was something written about in songs. With what has followed, it was little more than a curse._

Brienne paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath to contain her creeping anger and stepping into the kitchen with him, keeping her eyes fixated on the glass she picked up and took a delicate sip. She could still feel his intense stare drilling holes into the back of her head though, and she whipped her head around with a scowl that she could not remember letting contort her features. 

“What?” She hissed, her lips forming a thin line and her brows creasing in what she was sure was not an overall pleasant expression for him to want to stare at much longer. 

Jaime, however, only grinned around the rim of his wine glass which he lowered after a particularly large gulp. “There she is!” He exclaimed dramatically. “You haven’t seemed yourself all day. I was beginning to think that you had softened your terribly hard edges. I was very disappointed.”

“Oh, piss off.” She scoffed, accompanied by her second eye roll of the night and an amused chuckle from Jaime, who she promptly ignored by heaving up his bag on the floor and setting it on the counter so she could rifle through the papers. “I’ve not been feeling well, if you must know.”

Brienne winced the moment the words exited her mouth, hidden only by the file she was holding up in front of her face as if expecting it. Could that be an obvious indication of what lay growing in her womb? Could he have guessed? Everyone knows nausea is a symptom of- 

“If the state of your face is anything to go off then I would have to assume you are never well.” Plucking the folder out of her hands and placing it down, Jaime turned around and leant against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest, his stump hidden by the extended sleeves of his jacket that he had specially tailored for that specific purpose. “Tell me what’s really wrong, Wench. We’re both lawyers, and we can both sense the bullshit that just came out of your mouth.” 

As much as Brienne loathe to admit it - and she really, really did when he gave her that smug look which he only ever gave her when he knew he was right - Jaime knew her better than most. After the dreadful year where he had found himself on trail for the murder of Locke with Brienne behind him as his only defence, they had grown closer than what everybody seemed to think. Their constant bickering along with the tense air that followed them like a plague ready to infect everyone with the annoyance that radiated from both of them on a daily basis was enough to make people believe that they held no care for one another, but they truly did. Most of the time, anyways. 

One example being when they fell into bed together. The prime example, Brienne would call it. 

For a moment, Brienne could no nothing but stare, her mouth opening and closing in attempt to force words from her ever constricting throat and into the open air, but nothing would come out. 

Suddenly, a hand was on her forearm, and it was as strong and as firm as she remembered it. His eyes were as warm as they had truly been since the day she had met him when her sapphires met the emeralds of his own, though she had not noticed back then just how soft they were. Jaime’s lips twitched upwards into a small smile, his fingers tightening around her arm. “Don’t worry,” He soothed in a tone no less cocky than it usually was. “I won’t force anything from your big mouth. But just know, that if what is worrying you is about that night... I hold nothing against you.” Even Jaime could not prevent the awkward cough that exited into the air and tightened immediately around her heart. “It meant nothing.” 

_But it does now._

Brienne wished that she could say that his words did not cut her deeper than any others could. What had happened between them, whether or not they decided to mention it as little as they had or as frequently as new lovers, it had meant something. It had meant that she was now cursed with a baby she did not want, a baby that they did not want. There was little love between them, only that of two friends who respected each other as if they were Knights of old, but that did not matter now. What turmoils she would have to face in the coming weeks, what decisions she would have to make on whether to replace the life inside of her with an empty abyss or to leave it to thrive until she could no longer carry it she would have to make alone. It pained her; it scared her, and there was nothing at all she could say to him to make any of this better than what it was. 

She needed rid of this baby, she could not love something that meant nothing to Jaime. A mistake. 

Despite herself, and despite what thoughts raced through her head and threatened to crash against the barriers of her eyes to force yet more tears to flow down her cheeks, Brienne grinned, her scowl slipping from her face and relieving the tight knit of her eyebrows, if only to rid herself of any indication of just what was whirling around her head like a storm ready to brew. “I’d like to see you try anyhow.” 

Jaime chuckled deeply, squeeing her arm reassuringly before taking it away to open up the file that lay resting on the table. The warmth of his touch did not leave her body, however, until his eyes turned away from her after a prolonged moment. 

There were many a word that Jaime could be a associated with, from arrogant to handsome, from smug to smart, but Brienne would have never thought that he would be kind. And caring. And just. But he simply was. He was as honourable as he was annoying at times, but the peace it brought her to know that he was a friend was equivalent to the sounds of the ocean lapping against the shores on Tarth, singing her lullabies until she closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless slumber. 

Sleeping with him might have been a mistake - the biggest of her life so far - but there was nothing that she regretted about meeting the man who’s babe grew in her womb, and as unwanted as it was, Brienne would not wish Jaime out of her life even if it meant she could get rid of what burden she was now weighed down by. Their relationship was too important to her to give up on, and if she had to hide this from him until there was nothing at all to hide, then she was sure she could manage that. 

“Let’s get started then.” She sighed, feeling lighter now that the warmth of his gaze had heated something within her that served to free her temporarily from what tormenting troubles. 

Brienne only wished her moment of freedom would last a lifetime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO!!   
> What do you think Brienne will do? Will she tell Jaime? Will she learn to love what she carries inside of her?  
> Will she learn to love Jaime?   
> Tell me what you think!!   
> Make sure to leave a comment, I appreciate every single one!


	4. Ch. IV

_Not today._

It was the very phase that carried Brienne through the three days that followed, even though they struck her with such painful regret every time Jaime Lannister found a way to invade her thoughts, just as he had invaded her womb. Even his sperm was arrogant, so it seemed. 

It had been five weeks since he fell into her bed and therefore into her body, filling her with such pleasure at the time which she had not realised was the most pleasant sense of bittersweetness of which anyone was capable. In depth, they had not discussed what had happened between them, but it was evident to anyone who knew them at all that there was an unspoken burden lay on both of their shoulders. Of course, it had been mentioned, but ever since that glance of regret he had given her the Monday afterwards, every time the conversation wavered towards the topic, Brienne changed courses immediately. Even more so now with her state.

Nausea had yet to ware away; bile burned at the back of her throat whenever she was unfortunate enough to have the aroma of salt invade her senses until she had to raise a hand to her hand in order to hold back what wanted to come out. Her breasts were as sensitive as they were small, and despite her advantage with not having the largest chest to conceal, she was mostly able to wear sports bras to work to prevent her nipples from scraping painfully against any other material. And _Gods_ , was she exhausted. 

Brienne had taken it upon herself to look up the changes her body was going through, and it appeared that it was the fifth week where her hormones would begin to invade her. Large amounts, too. Not that she wasn’t mostly always in some bad mood, like a storm cloud rained over her head and drenched her with a dullness that spread to her emotions - and, as she would say, her personality too - but Brienne was aware that this secret would soon be too hard to conceal. 

Already, it was difficult. She did not want to tell Jaime, she could not bear the shame, but she knew that she would have to if she wanted to get rid of it. Taking away her own baby would mean taking away Jaime’s too and, as much as she loathed to admit, he deserved to know. But so far it had been three days, and he knew as little (and as much) as Brienne wanted him to for now. 

But she could not keep this secret from everyone - facing this alone was too much even for her. Being young and pregnant was a feat in itself, but doing it alone... it was something that scared her endlessly. 

It was why she found herself sat on her couch one evening with her phone in her hand, a glass of red wine held steadily in the other whilst she bit down on her lip, worrying it with her teeth until she was sure she could taste the copper or her blood.

_Me: Can you come over?_

Her thumb had shook on the send button as if some other force of nature was fighting with her own body, which vehemently refused to touch down on the screen. There was no going back from this, and Brienne knew it.Her mind screamed at her, but all worries she had deafened her to any coherent thought. There was no going back. 

Anxiously, she awaited a response by raising her wine to her lips and talking a rather large gulp, that immediately got stuck in her throat when the message was read. Covering her mouth with her hand to prevent the alcohol from coming back up, Brienne’s eyes stayed firmly glued to her screen, watering with the effort it took not to choke. 

Finally, the message came through, and despite the fear that coiled itself around her lungs and prevented her from breathing, relief swept through her like an unpredicted wave and her shoulders slumped with gratitude. 

_Sansa: Of course. Be right there._

— JB —

Brienne had met Sansa Stark in law school during the time where she had conducted her first case and Sansa had been the victim of domestic violence from her partner, Ramsay Bolton. There was little evidence at the time to suggest Sansa was not lying, and the Bolton’s were one of the richest families in Westeros (before convictions against Roose Bolton, however) so they had the best lawyers available on their side. The eldest Stark has lost both of her parents years prior and money was on the low; the best she could afford was Brienne, who was only a student, the same age as she.

Catelyn Stark had been her tutor for the first few years in law, and Brienne had fond memories of the woman who had such courage and strength that when she died in a horrific homicide, Brienne had felt pain so deep that she had taken the term off to reconcile. Catelyn had mentored her, given her everything she could in order to make her one of Westeros’ greatest lawyers to help people when she passed on. The fact that Brienne could not see her homicide case through due to still being inexperienced only added to her grief. 

So, naturally, when Catelyn’s daughter was in need of her assistance, she offered it. For free. Begged Sansa to take her on so she could repay her mother for all that she had done for her, and much to Brienne’s gratefulness, Sansa had agreed. 

They won the case on a landslide; Brienne had managed to catch Ramsay out with a question whilst he stood on the podium, and the smug gleam that once lit up his eyes dulled, the colour in his face drained and was replaced with a sheet the shade of a white bodybag. Sansa had sobbed, and Brienne had tried not to, but later on whilst celebrating their success together, they had cried together. Ever since, their relationship bloomed into a close friendship that had been built on the foundations of respect, and Brienne was proud to call the once timid teen she had met all of those years ago her best friend. 

Especially during times like these. 

Brienne stared at the young woman from across her couch, who stared right back with her eyes of cyan that had hardened and cooled over the years that followed the case. Her wine glass was raised once again to her mouth so that her gaze was obscured as not to meet Sansa, which was a feat when the air was so tense that she could hardly breathe. 

“You’re _what_?” She asked, her voice barely a whisper, but hit Brienne harder than any yell could have. 

Wincing as she lowered her glass to place on the table, her movements as slow as could be as to prevent the inevitable. A cough emitted from her in attempt to fill the rigid air, but only added to its thickness. With a sigh, Brienne looked up and met Sansa with wondering eyes. 

“I’m pregnant.” She repeated. 

Sansa’s hands rose to her mouth, covering it entirely as her eyebrows knit together on her forehead. “Oh my Gods. Who’s is it?” She murmured, muffled. 

“You know who’s it is.” Brienne sighed, running her fingers through her pale hair and knotting them at the back of her scalp. 

Sansa had been the first one - _the only one_ \- Brienne had told that she had slept with Jaime. On the morning she had woken up to see that the Lannister had left her in the middle of the night without so much as a note for her to wake up to whilst she lay naked and exposed in her bed, Brienne had called Sansa to explain what had occurred. With the bedsheets clutched to her bare chest and her heart breaking further after each breath she took, it had been her friend to calm her nerves and soothe her. Brienne was endlessly grateful for her support, even after she told her that she and Jaime were taking and working together again, which Sansa disapproved of. 

There was no amount of gratitude she did not have for the young wild. 

Sansa stared, her eyes widening further in the silence during the passing seconds. “Does he know?” 

“Of course he doesn’t, I can’t find the courage to tell him..” There was no lie in her words. Every time she opened her mouth in Jaime’s presence to tell him, or simply elude to it, her throat constricted and closed with shame, and she simply could not. 

Letting her hand fall from her mouth, Sansa grasped Brienne’s own firmly, squeezing it reassuringly until those ocean eyes, which were now damp with unshed tears, looked towards her. “Brienne,” She said softly, shuffling closer to her friend who had begun to show her usual signs of distress. “You need to tell him.” 

Brienne nodded mutely, her head tilting downwards to stare at their joined hands; Sansa’s dainty fingers gentle enough to give her the soothing contact she needed, and yet strong enough to enforce her words. 

“Look at me, Brienne.” She did as she was told, reluctant as she may be, and was met by the warm features that smiled so reassuringly at her that Brienne was sure it would be her breaking point. “You have to tell him.” 

“I can’t!” She cried, all tension in her body surfacing like she had been drowning and had only just found a way to breathe again. “I can’t tell him! Every time I see him all I feel is shame and regret. He slept with me, he fucked me on a one night stand and did not stay the night because he couldn’t stand to open his eyes in the morning to see me lay next to him. How the fuck am I going to tell him that i’m pregnant without him running out of my life forever?” 

Brienne found herself embraced in Sansa’s comforting arms seconds later, her head lay on her shoulder with tears leaking from her eyes, the shudders of heaving sobs wracking through her body. Inside, her soul was tearing itself into shreds that were cut by the thorns of roses that had bloomed once with the love she had for Jaime Lannister. He had broken her heart and until she was being held together by Sansa’s gentle arms to stop her from falling apart all together. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” The gentle whispers caressed her withering heart, trying to soothe and assure it that she would be fine. Sansa’s hand stroked the back of her head, the other rubbing up and down her hunched back whilst murmuring words of comfort. “Come now, look at me Brienne.” 

Despite her reluctance, she did as was asked and rose her head from the shoulder it was lay on to face Sansa, who smiled despite the awful sight of her red and blotchy cheeks, her swollen eyes and eyes that were too bloodshot to be blue anymore and instead seemed a dark black. Tears stuck to her cheeks, their tracks giving her skin an awful wet shine that was as unappealing as the rest of her. But Sansa did not care, she simply reached with her dainty fingers and wiped her tears away, just as Brienne used to do for her. 

“I don’t want to do this alone. I don’t even know what to do.” She sighed after a moment of silence and the calming embrace she had yet to find the strength to leave, drying the wetness on her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “I don’t want a baby, Sansa. I can’t raise one, I don’t know how-“ 

“Hey, it’s okay, love.” Sansa repeated to stop her raising panic, easing Brienne to relax in her arms until her overly tall friend was curled up beside her, head settled comfortably on her shoulder with her own head leaning against the blonde hair as she stroked through the short locks. “You’re not alone, Brie. I’ll be by your side the whole way, no matter what you decide to do. I love you, okay? You’ll never be alone in this.” 

Brienne nodded, closing her eyes peacefully as her body relaxed into the hold. There were no words to describe her gratitude, nothing she could do would convey the respect she had for her best friend. She would not leave her. There were other types of love besides romantic, and Brienne loved Sansa so truly. 

“I love you too.” She murmured, her strong arms folding around the young woman in return for everything she had given her. “Thank you.” 

“There’s no need for thanks.” Sansa laughed quietly. “You know i’ll always be here for you. It was simply a reminder.” 

Smiling as lightly as the sun as it broke over the horizon, Brienne sighed quietly, another sudden somber sense washing over her. “I need to tell Jaime,” She said, for what must have been the hundredth time since she had found out about her pregnancy. “But I don’t know how to. I feel so weak, Sansa. I’ve never cried this much, or felt so down. I’ve even read up on blogs online where women have had babies which had been mistakes, and yet they loved them anyways.” 

Brienne felt Sansa nod from where her head rested on top of her own. “Do you not love your baby?” 

She did not answer right away, and it was not because she was considering her response, rather that she felt guilty because of it. “No,” She finally answered. “I don’t think I do. Perhaps if circumstances were different, then I would. But this child... It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like it is mine.” Brienne bit down on her lip. “Is that wrong of me?” 

“No,” Sansa assured immediately. “Of course it’s not. Considering the circumstances, your feelings are valid.” There was a small pause. “But I don’t think you should turn to abortion. Not until you have looked into other options, if you haven’t already. Especially not without telling Jaime.”

Brienne frowned, turning her head to look to at the young wolf, who’s eyes were as cool as they were calm. 

She did not think to ask how Sansa knew what her plans were, she doubted she was subtle about them. But what else was she to do when the life inside of her was growing with each passing day, causing her nausea in more ways than one and plaguing her thoughts and self-esteem until little could be found of either. 

“What else am I to do?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Jaime won’t want a baby, especially not with me. I can’t keep it and raise it alone, I don’t even want to raise it together.” 

“But what if he does want it?” 

It was the very question she had avoided asking herself. What if Jaime asked for her to keep it? It was his, after all. He had some right towards deciding it’s fate. But Brienne did not want it, and how could she live knowing that the baby she had given to Jaime did not have a mother because its mother did not want it? There was no honour in that. 

Brienne did not answer at first. How could she? If Jaime wanted it, she could not deny him the baby, even if she didn’t. She might not love the life growing inside of her, but he might. Jaime might save her from having to raise the child, but that didn’t make it any less painful to think of what that child would be missing. 

“I don’t know.” She answered almost inaudibly, a cloudy layer passing over her eyes like a storm brewing above the oceans in her iris’s, the waves ready to crash and roar. “I’m trying not to think of that.” 

“You have to.” Sansa insisted, resuming the steady stroke of her hand over the pale blonde hair which had matted due to the knotting of Brienne’s fingers within it earlier on. “If you get rid of this baby without telling Jaime and he finds out that his child was taken from him, it will hurt him. Tremendously. And if after you tell him, he is as adamant to get rid of it as you are... well, there are still other options.” 

“Like giving it away?” 

“Exactly.” 

Brienne would admit she had thought of it. Carrying a baby on behalf of another was not so much better; she would still have to go through the pain that the nine months would bring her, only to have to give away the child upon its birth. But it was an honourable thing to do. Giving a family the gift of a child that they could not have on their own made pride flutter in her womb. Surely that was better than ridding herself of it all together. 

“I suppose that it would be nice.” Brienne agreed with a little nod. “To give someone else a chance, that is.” 

“See?” Sansa smiled, to which Brienne smiled back, soft as it were with her eyes still red from tears. “There are other options.” 

“But I must tell Jaime.” It was more of a self-command, a determined one at that. Leaning to pick up the wine glass that she had discarded on the table, she took a careful sip of it and sunk back into the embrace of her friend, her large and awkward body curled into her. It reminded her of all those times during their first few meetings where Sansa had cried onto her shoulder and looked to her for safety and protection, and now their positions were reversed. She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Yes. You must. I will be there with you if you need me to be.” Sansa offered, plucking Brienne’s wine glass out of her hand and taking a gulp, chuckling at the sound of retaliation which came after. 

“Thank you, but I need to do this alone. I would feel better if I spoke to him alone.” Brienne replied, her spirits lightened now that Sansa was with her, albeit drinking her wine.

“Just know,” The young woman started, pressing a reassuring kiss to the top of her head. “That no matter what Jaime says, i’m not leaving your side. After all you have done for me, it’s my turn now to do all I can for you. You’ll always have me.” That sweet smile was back, warming the cyan in her eyes with a layer of golden hue and painting her pretty features seemingly with the gentle stroke of an artists brush. 

Brienne felt tears well in her eyes again, but instead of opening her mouth and embarrassing herself with whatever sound tore from her throat and pierced through the open air, she simply hugged Sansa tighter and nodded her head enthusiastically. 

They were both silent for a moment. 

“ _Pregnant_.” Sansa whispered behind the rim of the wine glass. “At least the sex was good.” 

“Sansa!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m always a sucker for Brienne and Sansa’s friendship.   
> Sorry to tease you all with the last chapter, I know many of you are closeness to combusting with the anticipation of Brienne telling Jaime, but we will get there soon enough!! 
> 
> Tell me what you thought of the chapter/what you think will happen! 
> 
> Make sure to comment, they are always appreciated, i love each and every one!! 
> 
> p.s. i’ll try and respond to as many as i can, but the site hasn’t been letting me :(


	5. Ch. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry everyone for the delay in this chapter, it’s been a very busy week. Nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!   
> And thank you all so much for the positive response on the story so far, i’m so glad that you’re all excited about what it’s to come <3

Brienne had always know that her body was not particularly comparable for such womanly things as pregnancy. 

What life grew inside of her felt more like death reincarnate, the painful cramps that twisted in her womb until nausea flooded her and she was wrenching up the food she could not remember eating. Usually, Brienne enjoyed the weekends where she could curl up on her couch with a glass of wine and a movie on the tv, enjoying the peace and quiet she had in her own private space. 

But this weekend was torture. Not only was it the thought of impending doom that plagued her mind whenever it wandered to Jaime, but the horrors of sickness and exhaustion that made her feel more dead than alive. Laying on her couch had never been so painful, especially when sickness kept her awake when she had not slept properly in days. She suspected that this was what her life for the next nine months would be like, should Jaime not want her to keep the baby that is. 

Since her talk with Sansa, Brienne had been weighing the possibilities of what could come of this pregnancy. Under no circumstances did she want to keep the child - it did not belong to her and she did not love it like a mother should - but she could not take this opportunity away from someone unfortunate enough to not be able to conceive. The baby growing in her womb could be someone else’s entire life. Though, on the other hand, abortion... it seemed so easy compared to having to live like this for nine months. But Brienne knew that she could not live with herself if she got rid of the baby. 

It did not belong to her. She had no right to take its life. 

It was a thought that plagued her mind until all other thoughts were banished. How could she be so selfish as to deny someone else the opportunity of a lifetime simply because she was afraid of what would come of her body? She couldn’t be. 

Her thoughts - _along with her stomach_ \- would not stop whirling. When she had woken up that morning with bile at the back of her throat, Brienne had strongly considered taking a day off work to manage the pain, and perhaps one of the biggest mistakes she had made so far was forcing herself in because she had thought that working may take her mind off of everything. 

_How wrong she had been._

Brienne currently sat at her desk, her head held steadily in her hands as wave after wave of nausea crashed over her senses and drowned her in such faintness that she could barely keep her eyes open long enough. Little could be done though. She had a deadline to meet, and she would not allow this inconvenience to set her back. Brienne had never missed a deadline before and this would not be her first. 

Raising her face from her hands, she lay her fingers on the keyboard in front of her and began to type. With deep breaths she managed to keep the sickness down in her stomach, along with her consciousness. Sansa had advised her to take it easy when she had called this morning, after she had scolded Brienne for forcing herself into work of course. But Brienne would not be defeated, even though she felt every bit of it when the light emitting from her computer caused the exhaustion she felt to mould into a headache too. 

“Long weekend, Wench?” The shock of Jaime’s smug voice from her office door made her made her jump, which did absolutely nothing to keep the bile down. Brienne lifted her head and glared at him, which she knew not to be a pleasant sight considering her dark under-eyes and overly pale skin that made her freckles seem darker and her hair a more ugly pigmented shade of yellow. 

“Good morning to you too.” She replied tightly, averting her gaze back to her computer screen. A bad decision considering she had to wince in order to avoid her pounding headache which knocked all conscious thought from her head, including the very rational realisation that she was now talking to the father of the baby inside of her. 

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Or wrong side of the world? You look like you’ve been dragged through the Seven Hells. Backwards.” Jaime rose an eyebrow, closing the door as he walked further into the room and pulled up the chair on the opposite side of her desk before falling into it. 

Brienne rolled her eyes, the cockiness he exuded by lifting his feet up onto the desk radiating off him in unholy waves. “I’ve not had chance to sleep.” 

“Deadline got you stressed?” He asked, linking his fingers together and resting them on his thighs as he watched her carefully, making her feel as though she were being examined. It was very unnerving. 

“You could say that.” She responded dryly, eliciting an eyebrow raise from him. Any other day she would be able to handle his cocky attitude - it was all she had been doing since they first met - but today was not that day. Neither had the four weeks since they had slept together been either. 

“Tell me what’s wrong with you, Wench. I’m tired of all of these dry answers.” He sighed, tilting his head back dramatically as he did so. 

With her gaze focused so intently on her blaring screen which heightened her headache beyond what was surely healthy, Brienne could not fully comprehend anything Jaime was saying, never mind reply more coherently than she always had. Her mind was a storm; every thought that entered was swept up into the whirlwind that plagued her and made sickness rise higher in her throat, close to breaching point. 

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” She sighed eventually, pushing herself sideways away from the glare of her computer to face him more fully, her head falling into her hands. “It’s been a long few days.” 

That was an understatement. A massive one at that. 

Talking to Jaime whilst knowing that his baby lay within her womb wasn’t the toughest thing she had to deal with currently, but she was conscious enough to understand that the flutterings in her stomach were not entirely due to the bile. She was going to have to tell him soon, she wasn’t sure how much long of this she could take. 

“Pray tell.” Jaime said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward with his elbows resting firmly on her desk. With his eyebrows drawn together and his lips forming a mocking pout, he awaited a response, which did not come. So he waited a little longer, silently, and Brienne still did not speak. “Brienne?” 

She was biting down on her lip, worrying it so intensely with her teeth that she was sure she would soon start tasting blood. Her throat clenched without her consent, cutting off the words that she wanted so desperately to exit. She felt as though her whole future with this baby rested entirely on this moment of opportunity that the Gods has graced her, and so how could she deny them? It had to be now. 

“Jaime,” Brienne began, her fingers linking together in front of her to prevent the urge to fiddle around with them and add more fuel to how nervous she must seem. Wetting her top lip, she opened her mouth to let out her frustrations, to go forward in her life and finally - _finally_ \- make a decision on what to do with the baby now that Jaime knows. 

But of course, that didn’t happen. 

Jaime stared at her for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing with each passing second that she sat there with her mouth open and on the verge of reveal. Shaking his head, he lowered his hand from supporting his head and reached over to cover her linked fingers. “Brienne,” He tempted. “I know things haven’t been so... comfortable since that night, but you can talk to me. I also know that we didn’t have the best start, but i’m still your friend. You don’t have to deal with everything alone, you know.” 

Brienne almost wished he could have insulted her and started swearing in her face like he used to. It would have been less painful than how sweet he was being. Gods, he didn’t deserve this. Neither of them deserved this. It was too much. All of it. 

“I’m so sorry, Jaime.” She murmured, the guilt of the entire situation swarming her senses and gnawing at all hope she had within her that everything would be okay until nothing but embers remained. She was the one who said she would take precautions and completely forgot, and although Jaime was not entirely free of blame, a lot of it lay so heavily on Brienne she could hardly breathe at times. “I’m so sorry.” 

Jaime’s concern was readable, it etched into his features and pulled at each nerve until his face was comforted with worry. “You’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?” His eyes widened suddenly, and Brienne’s heart dropped. Had he figured it out? Oh Gods. “Please don’t tell me that you forgot the deadline.” 

She could have laughed at how he thought that was the biggest concern his life had been infected with. 

Brienne shook her head, which fell shortly afterwards into her awaiting palms. “No, no. I’ve just got one more document to fill and we can hand our paperwork in. I just... I need to tell you something.” 

“You can tell me anything, Brienne, you know-“ 

“Stop being so nice!” She cried, her tolerance breaking along with every last ounce of her with it. It wasn’t until she whipped her head up to face him again that a bout of nausea hit her so fiercely that it sliced through her throat at a speed that she was barely ready for, but with what luck she had left, Brienne managed to lean over and heave into the bin next to her desk. 

Jaime was by her side in that same second, rubbing her back as each wave of sickness washed over her with such recklessness that tears began to spill down her cheeks of pure white. Before long, with his strong hands on her weak and slump shoulders, Jaime helped her sit up in her chair again and knelt in front of her with her trembling hands held within his own. 

“You’re sick, Brienne.” Jaime started, You need to go home. If this is what you were talking about then there’s no need to be sorry-“ 

“No, no,” Brienne interjected, her eyes closed against the tears that burned from the violence of her vomiting. “It’s not that.” 

He tilted his head to the side, and as she opened her eyes when he did not reply, the contrast from the darkness behind her eyelids and the glaring light of her office sent her head spinning with dizziness.

“Then what is it?” He asked, irritation creeping into his voice when she would not answer him. 

Brienne sighed through a deep breath and squeezed his hands between hers, leaning forward in her chair. “I’m not sick, Jaime.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, his beautiful eyes gazing into her own which were surely clouding over. “If you’re not sick, then what’s wrong with you?” 

“You have to know. _Please_ , you have to understand now.” Raw desperation laced her voice, and accompanied by her fingers which clawed at the back of his hands, it was all she could do. She couldn’t say the words. She couldn’t. 

Jaime rose upwards, shaking his head in denial. “Brienne, I truly don’t know. I need you to tell me so that I can help you. Tell me.” 

“I can’t!” She cried, breaking the grasp of their hands, close to raising them to her face to cover the shame written into every inch of her blushing cheeks when Jaime grabbed her forearms, restricting the movement. 

“Brienne, calm down!” With a struggle, he managed to calm her enough to force her to stay seated, his thumbs stroking over the milky skin that was exposed to him “You can, I need you to.” He said softly, and she could have wept. 

Brienne had never known such emotional distress before. Her heart constricted with the need to tell Jaime just what life grew within her, but there was nothing she could do to prevent the nerves that seized her from taking the opportunity that had been given to her. But if she did not take this chance, if she did not tell Jaime then she would have to do this alone, and she couldn’t. She was not woman enough. 

No matter what will within her instructed her not to let the tears fall, Brienne could not hold back. The pain of her migraine, the stress of her exhaustion, the vile taste in her mouth and the baby in her womb were too much. All of this was too much, and she did not blame herself for leaking of her ocean eyes. “This is too hard!” She choked out. “I can’t do this alone. I can’t!” 

“You’re not alone,” Jaime insisted through his gritted teeth, his hand flying up to her face to cup her cheek, the other resting firmly on her arm. Brienne’s gaze widened. “But you need to tell me. You’re sick, you’ve not been sleeping, and you look horrible. You’re not yourself, Brienne. If you’re not sick, as you say you’re not, then what are you?” 

She couldn’t breathe. The pounding in her head drummed against her sensitive mind until the hurricane swirling inside had a voice and it screamed at her. Exhaustion mixed with her current state was not a good combination, and she felt every bit of its hellish intentions as her vision began to blur. 

“ _Jaime_.” She pleaded, her hand falling to her stomach. If Jaime thought it was a sign that she was about to throw up again, it did not last for long, as the last thing she saw before darkness consumed her and she fell limp into Jaime’s awaiting arms was realisation dawning in his eyes as bright as the sunrise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh!! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!   
> I know it’s what you’ve all (kinda) been waiting for. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	6. Ch. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays everyone!!   
> as my gift to you, here is the longest chapter yet, and the one all of you have been waiting for!   
> enjoy!! <3

The first thing that Brienne saw when she opened her eyes was a blinding light that pierced straight through her soul, which felt lighter than it had before. 

For a brief moment of delusion, Brienne entertained the thought that she was dead; that the Seven had come to take her from Jaime’s arms and help her raise into the heavens where all of her troubles could be put behind her. But it was a thought that evaporated shortly afterwards when her eyelids fluttered, wiping her eyes free of all the excessively dramatic thoughts, and instead of being greeted by the Maiden herself - like she had expected - she was greeted back to reality by a familiar face peering over hers. 

“Sansa?” Brienne croaked, her voice so raw that each syllable tore through her throat so painfully that she was hesitating to say much else afterwards. 

“Oh, thank Gods!” Her friend breathed, her hands rising to settled over her chest in relief. It was almost like she had been playing knock and run on deaths door. “You’re okay.” 

Brienne nodded her head against the pillows, wincing and blinking rapidly as the light began burning holes into her eyes, threatening to blind her for life. Soon enough, she simply settled for laying her arm across her eyes, the attachments and wires embedded in her skin tugging and making her hiss in pain. “Fuck,” She whispered, though unwilling to take her shield away. “Of course i’m okay; I fainted, I wasn’t shot.” 

Gods, it was embarrassing to think about. Now that she was conscious, everything came flooding back. She had been so dizzy that everything in front of her had seemed little more than a blur, but Jaime’s voice echoed in her mind. Before she could stop herself, she had fallen right into his arms like a fair maiden, and most likely crushed him with her weight. Brienne could remember the panic in his eyes when her condition had grown progressively worse, and then, just before she fainted- 

“Oh, shit,” Brienne gasped, almost flying upwards and knocking Sansa, who moved out of the way just in time to avoid the sickening crack of their skulls against each other. Although her head pounded viciously, Brienne could only ignore it as the thought that coursed through her mind caused her inevitably more pain. “Shit!”

Sansa, wide-eyed and stood besides Brienne with her hands held up in a surrender, could only watch as panic unfolded on her features, her eyes as wild as the seas on Tarth during storm season. “Brienne, what is it?” Sansa asked tentatively, slowly lowering her arms to place one on her friends shoulders. 

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Brienne asked quietly, her lips parted as ragged breaths forced their way out despite her red and raw throat. Sansa did not need to answer her, for the hesitation and the bubbling of her bottom lip was more than enough for Brienne to know. Her hand moved to cover her mouth in shock. “Oh _Gods_ , he does.” She whispered, muffled. 

Telling Jaime had been all that was on her mind, and now it seemed to be her biggest regret. She had thought it would relieve her, like the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders, but it in fact only served to push her further into her open grave until she felt almost six feet under. The shame and the embarrassment were almost too much. 

Sansa nodded slowly, seating herself on the bed next to her, wrapping a willowy arm around Brienne’s broad shoulders comfortingly, her other hand reaching for one of her friends shaking ones, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He knows, honey.” 

“How did he take it?” Brienne asked desperately, whipping her head towards Sansa a little too fast, causing the tidal wave in her head to crash against her skull so hard that she went dizzy for a moment. “Was he disgusted? Was he yelling? Did he say anything-“ 

“Calm down, Brienne.” Sansa interrupted softly, the laboured breaths Brienne was letting out would only serve to make her more panicked than she already was, and that was good for nobody. “He’s okay.” 

It shocked her more than it served to relieve her, so much so that her breathing stopped all together for a moment, caught in her throat as if trying to choke her. “He’s what?” Brienne breathed out shakily. 

Sansa smiled, squeezing her right shoulder soothingly. “Jaime _okay_. Of course, he was shocked - he could barely get a word out to me when I got here. But he hasn’t left your side.” 

With her eyes continuing to grow wider with each passing word from Sansa’s lips, Brienne simply could not fathom it. Her mind had supplied her over the past week with thoughts of Jaime turning her away, of looking at her in disgust until it was engraved within her mind that this man would never forgive her. But she had hardly considered the possibility of him not raging and leaving the moment he heard in fear of having her hopes crushed, but it had soon become a reality. Somehow, it was even harder to deal with. 

“Where is he?” She asked quietly, her eyes firmly locked into Sansa’s, frightened that if she looked an inch to her right he would be stood right there. “Is he here?” 

“Yes, he’s here. Like I said, he hasn’t left.” Sansa smiled faintly, pulling Brienne in for a firm and much needed hug whilst he’s friends tried to calm herself down enough to think coherently. “You have only been here for a couple of hours, but when I arrived he was staring at you from the door. He had thought something terrible had happened to you.” 

“Really?” Brienne’s heart skipped in her chest, causing her breathing to momentarily stutter and choke her until all airways had been cleared again. Had Jaime truly not left her? Even after what he now knew? 

“Really.” Sansa nodded, resting her chin on top of Brienne’s head. “He was worried about you. I told him that there was no need to have brought you to the hospital, but he said it was imperative you were both safe.”

_Both_. Her and their baby. Not just Brienne, and not just the baby. Both of them. Jaime had wanted to make sure that each of them were okay. Brienne’s shoulders slumped against Sansa, her arms wrapping firmly around her slim waist to pull her closer. Unsure of whether to be happy or cautious, Sansa’s embrace was the only thing saving her from whirling into the abyss that had become her solitary mind. 

“I need to speak to him, don’t I?” She asked, muffled against the young woman’s shoulder, which heaved in an amused - yet soft - laugh. 

“Yes. You do.” 

Brienne bit her lip, pulling away slightly to meet Sansa’s eyes. “Did he say anything directly about the baby?” 

Her friend seemed to think for a moment, her gaze wavering as she stared into the distance for what felt like two lifetimes, and what could have been in Brienne’s mind. “No,” She finally concluded with a shake of her head, those red strands of silky hair glowing like a blaze of fire under the intense light. “He didn’t mention much at all. I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking. He was so quiet.” 

Brienne sighed heavily, her entire body slumping. Just when he hopes had risen that Jaime was okay with all of this, they deflated in what seemed like one instant. Instinctively, Brienne’s hands slid to rest over her stomach, unable to feel anything but the nervous butterflies beginning to flutter beneath her skin. 

“Do you think he will want to talk?” She asked quietly, pulling away from Sansa’s warm embrace to stare her friend dead in the eye, desperately searching for any signs of hesitation or sadness hidden in the cyan eclipse surrounding her pupils. 

“I don’t think he would want anything other than to talk.” The young woman admitted, her lips quirking upwards into a small smile as her hand grabbed Brienne’s securely, squeezing it with all the night she could muster to transfer the strength that Brienne had given her all those years ago back to its rightful owner. “I’ll go and get him if you’d like?” 

Brienne was reluctant. As much as she wished to see Jaime’s face, to know for certain that he was not going to waltz out of her life with the grin of a free man, knowing that he was not going to be weighed down by such an enormous responsibility, she was scared to look into his eyes. The last she had saw of him had painted a picture, and perfectly engraved into her mind the realisation that had lit up his chiseled features like the dawn rising up over the mountains in the morning, except to Brienne it was a sight she did not wish to see. 

“Yes, please.” She nodded, straightening her back and leaning against the wall to assume her high and courageous position to prepare herself. 

Sansa chuckled, lifting herself up off the bed after unlacing her fingers from Brienne’s to instead slide them into the pockets of her jeans. “I’ll go get him, and if you need anything, I’ll be right outside.” 

Brienne managed a small smile. “Thank you, Sansa.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Her friend said as she walked to and opened the door to her room, stepping outside only after giving her a reassuring wink. 

As always, Brienne was immensely grateful for the young woman who reminded her so much of Catelyn. It was their woman’s courage that saw them through each and every day despite what turmoils they faced, and it was that same bravery that they shared with all those around them to ensure their safety and protection in times of need. 

However, as soon as the door clicked softly shut after Sansa, Brienne’s posture completely deflated. Fear pooled in her womb, silencing all other thoughts that may cross her mind to focus on the blinding shame that consumed her whenever she thought of Jaime and his baby inside of her. The conversation they were to have was inevitable, and she could hardly believe her luck that this was the circumstance in which she was going to have to reveal to him her thought process; it was as embarrassing as it was painful. 

Wringing her hands together on her lap, Brienne couldn’t help her wince at the sound of the door opening and shutting. His footsteps were deafening in the silent room, only filled by the faint beeping of her heart monitor that grew faster and faster when his steps grew closer. Brienne adamantly refused to look up and face him, to have to look into his eyes and see exactly what he was thinking. It terrified her, and she could only swallow thickly when she saw him take a seat in the chair next to her bed out of the corner of her eye. 

Silence. 

“How are you feeling?” Such gentle words with even gentler intent, yet no matter how softly they were spoken and how beautifully they flowed through the air, they managed to pack such a severe punch to her chest that all of the air was knocked out of her. 

Gods, she didn’t know how she was going to do this. 

“I’m fine,” She nodded slowly, setting her lips with her tongue and swallowing down every rational fear in her body in order to lift her head up to meet him, their eyes drawn together by such a strong force that Brienne could not look away now if she tried. “How- how are you?” 

Jaime looked as he always had; his golden hair framing his angular features, cascading down to just above his shoulders where his blazer was aligned as straight and as neat as always. His face was perfectly symmetrical, and even the rare obscurity on the ride of his nose did nothing to take away from the ethereal sight that was the golden lion, who sat looking at her now with an unreadable expression. 

Jaime crossed one leg over the other, leaning back lazily in the chair whilst his elbow rested on the arm to allow his hand to cup his jaw. There was a brief moment of pause before his body was shifted with the effortless shrug of his shoulders. “I am well enough.” 

Yet another tense hesitation followed, and Brienne was close to suffocating in it when his eyes too were staring so deeply into her soul that it halted all coherency. 

Brienne’s throat ran dry. “Good.” 

Jaime’s head bobbed, his lips pursing as he openly analysed her. No signs of wellness were present in his eyes, in fact the green seemed so much more like venom in that moment than the sweet lush she was used to. His voice as as quiet as it was deadly when he finally spoke. “How long have you known?” 

There it was. Oh, _Gods_ , there it was. The segway into the conversation she had been dreading, and she was no more prepared for it than she was before she had come up with her elaborate speech one lonely night a few days prior. In fact, she felt worse. How couldn’t she when Jaime was looking at her with his eyes narrowing further with every passing second she fumbled around for words?

As flustered as she was, Brienne could not lie and act the fool. No, she had to face this situation head on with an unwavering heart. It was the only way either of them would get anywhere. 

“One week.” Brienne supplied quietly, interlocking her long fingers together and squeezing her hands with all of her might to imitate the comfort Sansa had given her earlier. A woman’s courage. “I found out last Friday.” 

“And you have yet to tell me.” Jaime said, a hint of something akin to amusement hidden in the depths of his velvet voice, disguised with disbelief. 

It was true though, as Brienne realised with a falter in her cool and calm expression which she had forced with great difficulty onto her face. She hadn’t actually told him yet, and instead had let him guess right before she collapsed into his arms. It was the selfish way out of the situation, but she would have chosen it every single time if presented with the same scenario again. It was the one option that delayed the inevitable and took away the immense shame that came with the reveal. 

Brienne was sat as still as a deer in a lions line of sight - which was her exact conundrum. 

“Jaime,” She began cautiously, her gaze absentmindedly settled on her flat stomach where soon the evidence of their mistake would bulge and grow until she would have to openly admit what transpired between them had ended in a loveless relationship with a child they did not want. But he deserved to hear the words, despite her fear and worries. He was entitled. “I’m pregnant.” 

Out of all the reactions she could have hoped for, smiling would not have been at the top of the list, and neither was laughing with joy. To know he was happy about this would be tragic. To know that he was willing to take this child with warm and open arms when she could not bear the thought of it was too painful. And so, when Jaime shook his head in disbelief - despite having already known - and leant forward to put his head in his hands, it was the favourable option. 

“Are you okay?” Brienne asked quietly, her hand inching out towards him but halting half way, retracting it shortly afterwards when Jaime failed to respond. “Jaime?” 

“I cant believe you didn’t tell me.” He spoke, his voice muffled by his hands until he raised his head up so their eyes met once again, the opposing tides of her sapphires and his emeralds merging together. Jaime’s head shook from side to side, disbelief etched onto his features and further chiselling him to create a perfect piece of art that should have been placed in a gallery, and indeed was: the gallery of things Brienne never wanted go remember. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

There were so many answers to that question, and none of them sounded particularly good and none of them would soothe to wipe that look off his face either. But Brienne did not back down, and instead shrugged her shoulders lightly, her fingers squeezing so tight together that they turned completely white. “I didn’t know how to.” 

“ _That_ ,” Jaime laughed spitefully, pointing an accusing finger directly at her with such force that his hand shook. The movement was so sudden that Brienne recoiled. “ _That_ is not a good enough excuse.” 

The tone in his voice had changed drastically in only a few seconds, and Brienne wished that the ground would swallow her whole and she would fall into the abyss of despair she had only just found enough strength to rise up from. “I know, I know,” She soothed and held up her palms to tame his growing frustration. “It’s not a good excuse, but I didn’t know what to do. Telling you seemed too much.” 

“Too much?” He asked, pushing herself further towards her, sat on the edge of his chair with his his eyes frantically searching her face, which had flushed such a deep shade of red it was beginning to permanently burn her skin. “Telling me was _too much_? Brienne, you’re pregnant! With my child! Did that not once cross your mind? I wouldn’t care if it was too much, too little, too hard or too embarrassing; I should have known!” 

“I tried to tell you!” Brienne cried, her cool resolve breaking along with her voice. “I did! But I couldn’t, Jaime. I couldn’t face you knowing that your baby was growing inside of me and you didn’t know about it, and each day it got more difficult because each one was yet another day that you didn’t know.” 

“It’s my baby, Brienne! Mine!” His chest heaved with every well pronounced word that was spat from his lips. “How could you not tell me until now? After a week! Does anyone else know? Have you worked up enough of courage you talk about lacking to tell anyone else?” 

“Of course I did! I couldn’t take all of this in alone. Sansa knows.” Brienne did not hesitate to reply, her eyebrows furrowing unpleasantly on her forehead as he laughed out his incredulity. 

“That, again, is not a good enough excuse! You wouldn’t have been alone had you told me, I would have been there for you!” Jaime stuttered to a halt. “I would have been there for the both of you.” 

Brienne’s eyes widened, and along with the thumping of her heart against her chest, there was little she could do to ensure she stayed conscious with the worry that coursed through her. “ _Would_ have?” She asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

Jaime ran a calloused palm over his face, the exhaustion of the past few hours evident in the reddening rings around his pupils. His head hung down for a moment, the golden strands of his hair falling to cover what expressions etched themselves into his features until he rose again, this time with his gaze as gentle as his grasp when he reached to take her hand in his own. 

“ _Will_ be,” Jaime corrected steadily. “I will be there. For the both of you.” 

A heavy sigh of relief stuttered into the air, followed by the slumping of her body into the bed and the squeezing of his hand in her own. “Thank you,” She whispered. “Thank you.” 

As faint and as forced as it was, Brienne took great comfort in the smile that twitched the corners of his lips upwards. “So,” He began, shuffling his chair closer to her bed, the shock of the situation still evident in the emeralds of his eyes that gleamed with uncertainty. “Where do we go from here?” 

There were so many possible answers to that question, and Brienne reviewed each and every one. What she thought would have been a weight off her shoulders now seemed like the whole world had been laid on her back, and she was not yet even sure of what would become of the baby inside of her. Their baby. 

“The first thing we need to discuss, I suppose, is whether... whether you want the baby.” Brienne could not find it in her to face him, she didn’t want to see the look of either horror at her insinuation or dread. Both would be too much to bear. “Do you?” 

The quiet that followed felt like a lifetime sentence to sit in this small room and think of each mistake that had lead up to this very moment, reliving every detail with such effective precision that Brienne could almost feel his hands sliding over her skin once again, but was in fact the path his eyes took. 

“Do you?” Jaime countered, and Brienne did not falter this time to answer. 

“No,” She said, confident and sure. “I don’t. I’m not ready for a baby.” 

“Neither am I.” He whispered, and it was enough to make her want to sob in relief. Nothing would have been more painful than carrying this baby for Jaime to father, and not herself to mother, and for the child to be raised with the knowledge one of its parents did not love it enough to even want to keep it. 

Jaime squeezed her hand tighter as her bottom lip began to tremble, and it was not long before he had placed himself beside her on the bed with his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest where she allowed herself to break and let her tears fall. 

“We will get through this, okay? No matter what.” He murmured into her hair, closing his eyes against the rush of emotion that threatened to cascade down his cheeks along with hers. “It’s you and me now. You’re not alone.” 

Sweeter words had never been spoken. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, there you have it! Jaime knows, but what did you all think of his reaction?  
> Did you expect him to be angry?  
> Did you think he was going to want the baby, unlike Brienne?
> 
> Tell me what you thought and leave me a christmas present in the form of a comment!! I love every single one of your kind words and encouragements xx
> 
> Merry christmas!!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter!  
> I’ll explain more as the updates come and go, but for now please make sure to comment what you thought!


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